


New Constellations

by fauxilya



Series: Flipped [1]
Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon Era, Childhood Sweethearts, M/M, Soulmate Bond, connected across time and space, fluff mostly, is this a, tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26856451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fauxilya/pseuds/fauxilya
Summary: “It feels like I’m livingSome sick deja vuAnd the answer is thereWhen I stare into you...”It wasn’t until ’90 that Jefferson and Hamilton actually met. But nobody knew that a long, long time ago, two boys shared a mysterious connection across time and space.A long, long time ago, when they were just Alexander and Thomas.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson
Series: Flipped [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1953922
Comments: 13
Kudos: 38





	New Constellations

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of backstory which happened in historical settings for this series.  
> Title & the lyrics in the summary are from New Constellation by Ryn Weaver. I love her music.  
> It can be read as a stand-alone, as is every part of this series. Enjoy!

Alex sat alone beside a cackling fire, watching the ocean waves climb on and off the sand. It was a windless summer night; hot and humid as it’d ever been on St. Croix. The sun had long fallen west, leaving never a hint of color on the endless night sky. Early into August, stars took their dominance in the absence of a moon, arranging themselves in a marvelous display of shimmering light.

His mother used to tell him all kinds of stories about the stars. Stories that were fading bit by bit in his mind, but never really gone. Along with her stories was the scent of her hair; her silvery voice when she would pick Alex up in his arms and sing away his nightmares; her face, colored with a gentle smile, shining with a divine beauty haloed in the morning light.

Three years. That was all it took for time to wash her away—turn her into nothing but dead memories, ghosting on the edge of his consciousness, haunting his dreams.

Alex kept staring blank into the fire, no moisture forming in his eyes. He had long turned fifteen; had seen too much death, had lost too much for his own good. He was used to it, people leaving him in all kinds of ways. Fortunately, his cousin Peter had taken him in. His talent was too recognized by the locals—last year, they placed him in charge of a trading charter. His life was settled and content as it might for once since he was born.

He promised his mother that he would stay strong—would write himself out of this hellhole. And he would. But at night, when the bustle of the day cooled down, an eerie quiet started to seep in and wrenched past sorrows out of the hearts of those who rarely sleep.

The dancing fire blurred in Alexander’s eyes.

Too quiet.

Alex frowned. There must be something wrong with his ears. Yes, the hour was late, but it shouldn’t be _this_ quiet. The ocean waves he could hear no longer; the soothing noise was replaced by a hair-raising silence. The stars’ blinking seemed to have come to a stop. Even the fire seemed like to be going through slow motion, no longer emitting sounds of water meeting burning wood.

Alex rubbed at his eyes. He really should be sleeping more, seeing that all his senses seemed to have numbed. He stood up, albeit reluctantly, the joints of his knees letting out a crack from being in the sitting position for too long. He started then down the direction of his cousin’s house, leaving the still burning fire to its own care.

“What are you doing here?” A strange voice, with even weirder accent, stopped Alex in his tracks.

He snapped his head around, where the voice seemed to have come from, and found a dark figure standing there, his head thrown back in a yawn. Alex’s gaze fell onto the boy’s clothes; the silky, warm-looking fabric _screamed_ money. Alex felt his eyes twitch in envy. The stranger’s nightwear might cost more than his cousin’s annual income.

It had to be some obnoxious rich from the mainland. Alex scrunched up his nose in distaste, too exhausted to throw insults. Also, there was no way he could afford getting into trouble with someone that high up—another reason he kept his usual snarky remarks at bay.

“Sir,” he started, his voice tired, “I must say it would be unwise of you to roam around the town in this hour. Please, allow me to take you back to your residence.”

Alex wasn’t hoping for a gift for gratitude from the new guy when he made that offer. He had grown out of that naivety long ago. But had anyone else seen this boy here, they would rob him blind. Offering to help the stranger find his way back home was something his mother would do, and Alex wouldn’t want to disappoint her ghost by abandoning what little in his heart he had left of her teaching.

The boy narrowed his eyes and looked Alex up and down. Alex dropped his head low, hiding the irritation on his face. “What are you talking about? I’m in my own bedroom and you are intruding. Get out.”

The rudeness stung, but only for a fraction of second, because Alex froze up at the sheer madness of the other boy’s words. “Excuse you, this is the island of St. Croix, and it is most definitely not your bedroom.” He mumbled, chuckling darkly, “even if your father makes enough to buy its charter from England.”

The other boy let out a snicker, contempt easy to spot in his voice. “St. Croix? Come on, you are standing on my carpet. I learnt geography at school and last time I checked, Virginia is thousands of miles away from the West Indies.”

 _Virginia?_ As in the colony?

Alex was tired to his bones. He decided that if he kept talking to this obnoxious rich kid, he’d be losing his mind even more. “Well, that’s unfortunate. You must be failing Geography if you actually think you’re in Virginia.” He fired a light insult, then added curtly before he resumed his walk, “Good-bye, then. ”

He was merely steps farther down the path when a hand landed on his shoulder. “Did you just,” The stranger said, gasping, “walk through my bedroom door?”

Alex simply shrugged, trying to shake the boy’s hand off.

“Wait.” He said, pulling Alex back. Caught off guard, Alex was easily back at his spot, and huffing at the other boy upon the realization. “Two people at different physical locations...are able to interact...” the strange boy mumbled under his breath, “I think I know what this is...still need to ask Mary about that. Yeah. It could be. ”

The boy was finally looking at Alex after his conversation with self, auburn hair shining in the starlight, gray eyes boring into his violet blue. Then, to Alex’s surprise, the stranger was giving him a tentative smile; when he opened his mouth again, his voice lost the previous wariness and came out almost...gentle.

“Thomas Jefferson, it’s a pleasure to meet you. ”

“Mr. Jefferson.” Alex greeted, his tone formal. If this rich kid were to make acquaintance of him, well, it could be only of advantage. “Alexander Hamilton. The pleasure is all mine.”

The boy’s smile morphed into an all-out grin, crooked teeth and all. “May we meet again,” he said. Then, as if on cue, Thomas Jefferson disappeared into thin air.

Alex felt his jaw fall open at the sight before him, reaching out to touch the air where Jefferson had stood.

Nothing. Not even a breath, a thread of warmth that hinted the presence of someone there not too long ago.

Maybe he had really gone mad.

**Author's Note:**

> My USH teacher would kill me for how historically inaccurate this is lol.  
> Thanks for enduring my terrible writing! Yall are the best <3333  
> kudos & comments are greatly appreciated!


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